Resistance
by CindyBaby
Summary: He knows that this battle was over before it even begun.


**A short story about being unable to let go, hope you like it!**

**I don't own Nikita and the rest.**

He falls, just like he always knew he would. Resistance had been futile, and in the end he was disarmed and cornered. The soldier in him still refused to admit defeat.

The man had accepted it long ago.

The rain hits the window with small drops that seem to rise in a crescendo with every harsh breath dragged through parted lips. Lips sucking, teeth nipping, tongue soothing... A moan followed by an answering sharp bite... A harsh groan, and he responds by fisting his hand in her hair and tugging until her dark eyes meet his.

He holds her gaze as he leans forward, his lips meeting hers softly. He pulls back, observing how her lips strain to follow, unabled by his grip in her hair. He lean forward again, lips pressing firmly against hers. She moves, rubbing against him, causing him to throw his head back with a groan and closed eyes. This time she follows, he allows her, and her lips press against his throat surely, like they'd done this a million times before. Like they already know how to touch each other, how to make the other crumble and beg.

His eyes open as flashing lights appear only to pass just as quickly. He curses himself for taking this risk, he glances quickly out the window of the car. No one stopped, no one is noticing them. No one cares, and those who do have no idea.

Nikita senses his attention has drifted and her eyes follow his. She tries to imagine what they'd see if they found them now. She's scared to discover that she dosen't care, but it's not enough to stop her, not now. He's here, and that's all she cares about. She leans forward and nips at his jaw, deamding his attention back.

His eyes leave the road beside them and slowly they travel to hers. There's things he wants to ask, things he wants to know, answers he needs to go on fighting this fight that has already left him so tired and drained, but as his eyes meet hers there is only one thing he needs...

Before she can react she finds herself on her back in the seat, Michael's body pressed tight against her own, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. He rests his forehead against hers and tries not to hate her for making him feel this way, but he knows...

This battle was lost before it even begun.

They tear each others close in the haste of getting them off but neither care. The need that has always been between them has finally reached it's boiling point and they can't wait. And then their eyes lock and with one sure thrust he's inside her.

Their groans echo in the small space.

It's hurried and frantic, but they don't speak. When he comes he clenches his teeth together hard to stop her name from spilling out, and he presses his face into her neck to muffle his groan as she clenches around him, her moans in his ear making him shudder.

They lay there for a while, him still inside her, the sweat drying on their bodies. When he finally lifts himself off her, leaving the comfort of her body he can't help his groan as she moans slightly when he leaves her. He leans back against the door opposite her and tries to keep his eyes focused on her's, but they betray him and they fall down her body, lingering on the inside of her tighs and his come. He dosen't question the emotions it evokes in him, storing it away for later. Keeping his eyes locked there he tries to get himself under control, he's fallen, now it's time to pick himself up.

"I... I'm sorry" Is he? "I, this shouldn't have happened" He forces himself to meet her eyes, he's man enough for that isn't he?

She smiles sadly and he knows... she, like him can already feel the void forming inside them now that they're apart again. "Why did it then?" Her voice is soft, devoid of accusation.

"Don't ask me that" Please don't ask, not right now...

She looks like she wants to and knowing her she does, but she keeps quiet, choosing instead to gather the tattered remains of her clothes around her. She opens the door and he's about to speak when she does.

"You can drop me off at third, I'm meeting someone later"

Dressed in ripped clothes, he wants to ask, but he snaps his mouth closed. It's none of his business. Nothing, except capturing her is his business. _Well what are you waiting for? You had a golden oppurtunity but you just couldn't resist... _He wants to scream, but he dosen't. Instead he gets out and drags his pants back up, and takes his seat behind the wheel. It's quiet as he drives, the tension thick and his hands clenches around the wheel until his knuckles turn white. When he stops she gets out without a word, and leaves without a backward glance.

He mocks himself later, when he watches her talk with Owen from his hiding place. Owen gestures to her body, and Michael imagines that he's asking why her clothes are ripped, and he tries to ignore the part of him that wants to walk up to them and tell Owen exactly how they came to be that way. He's stupid. Stupid for not being able to resist her, stupid for being here, stupid for hoping... but still he can't tear himself away, and when the sky changes and dawn is about to break he's still there, watching.


End file.
